


In the Ruins and Ashes

by timeless_alice



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mourning, Non-Verbal Character, post-praxus, prowl is autistic & partially non-verbal and y'all can fight me on that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeless_alice/pseuds/timeless_alice
Summary: Prowl goes to Bluestreak after Praxus is destroyed





	In the Ruins and Ashes

Prowl hadn’t expected Bluestreak to be awake, but there he was. Standing at the window, hands planted against the small sill - for support, judging by the slight tremble in still recovering knees - eyes drawn to the world beyond. It was a surprise, really, as he had only been brought in a week prior in a state that, if Prowl remembered correctly, had caused great alarm in the medical staff.

Prowl honked, just loud enough to get Bluestreak’s attention. Bright eyes and small, crooked smile snapped to him, and through all his knowledge of behavior in an objective sense, this did not line up with what Prowl was expecting. But, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting; sole survivor of a city’s wholesale destruction was not a common enough state of being that it left behind patterns of behavior to be learned.

He wasn’t even sure how he was processing his own feelings on the matter. He hadn’t lived in Praxus in centuries, but the city had still felt more like home than anywhere else.

“Oh, hello Prowl,” he said, tone light. “The doctors told me you might stopping by to visit and…”

And he kept going, like he was unable to stop the flow without Prowl offering some kind of reply to cause a disruption. Prowl tilted his head to the side, just slight enough to not be noticeable, as he took in every minor detail in Bluestreak’s frame. His plating was pulled a little tighter than normal against himself, and he favored his left leg over his right - Prowl could see streaks in the paint along his plating, discoloration and trace marks of welding. He felt no need to look for more damage, even though he could see various injuries stretching across his frame.

Without a second thought he stamped down questions and filed them away for some other time. Perhaps an inquiry with one of the doctors on staff. Prowl wasn’t good at interacting with others, not even approaching the concept of it, but he could tell when such things wouldn’t be wanted or appropriate.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said, though he signed instead of spoke. It was in part due to the grief that weighed against his spark, and in part due to the distinct idea that Bluestreak might not let him get a word in edgewise.

Bluestreak fell silent for a small stretch of time, as he took in Prowl’s words. A hand - one that trembled, just slightly - reached up to rub at the scarring, at the vestiges of repairs on his throat that stretched down to lay across his shoulders.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “What happened…happened. And there isn’t really anything we can do about it at this point.”

Something seized in Prowl’s chest, a tightening of his plating that indicated that he had misspoken. He continued speaking, slowly and deliberately, picking each word with extreme care. “I’m not here to talk about all of that. I’m sure the physicians here have been asking already.”

Bluestreak paused, a shudder rippling across him. Some of his plating shifted oddly, as if it was not set correctly. Or rather, was still resetting itself after injury and surgery.

“Yeah, they have. A lot of questions. The same ones, actually. As if I’d forget.”

Without a word, Prowl took his hands. The contact sent a ripple up his arms, quiet discomfort that he shoved into the far corners of his mind. He spoke, verbally, even though his systems struggled against it and made his words slower than he would have liked, “Tell me about Praxus. Before. What you remember of it.” There was an unspoken “please,” and a silent, almost infinitesimal, “I miss Praxus too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this a while ago on my tumblr and felt the desire to repost it here
> 
> this takes place in an au of mine but i don't think it's rly necessary to know
> 
> so! hello. im on tumblr at timelessmulder


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